


killing rey

by enfvs



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, F/F, F/M, Inspired by Killing Eve (TV 2018), Mutual Infatuation, Mutual Pining, Reylo - Freeform, Slow Burn, Star Wars - Freeform, ben is villanelle, rey is eve, the killing eve reylo au no one asked for, wlw, yes ben is female, yes the author is a lesbian, yes theres damerey but sometimes it be like that
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-15
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:34:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26271931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enfvs/pseuds/enfvs
Summary: Rey Dameron, a MI5 agent, has an infatuation with female assassins. And Kylo Ren, a female assassin, has an infatuation with Rey.
Relationships: Poe Dameron/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello!! welcome to this killing eve reylo fic! this is going to be pretty long because we have a lot to cover, but each chapter will be representative of one episode of killing eve. i'm going to try and follow the plot as loosely as possible, but you'll still be able to follow along and correlate plotlines to the show! it'll get more divergent as the story goes on. as you've probably seen, there are no graphic descriptions of violence tagged. i don't want to trigger/turn anyone off from the story just because i overdescribe something. that said, please let me know if you want me to start including the kill scenes!  
> enjoy!! feel free to leave feedback and let me know if you liked :)

She’s early, so she stops for gelato.

The day is relatively young, yet Kylo feels the telltale signs of exhaustion starting to creep in – the way her wrist twitches when she picks up the spoon, the ache behind her eyes. She’s been working nonstop for the past week. Kylo isn’t used to working hard.

Her gelato is melting.

Across the shop, a little girl sits with her mother. She’s grinning. This is her reward for being good for the day, Kylo thinks, for sitting still at an appointment or letting her mother shop. She seems proud of herself. She’s smiling at Kylo. Kylo smiles back, her eyes emotionless. She checks her watch. It’s go time.

On her way out, she lets her hand smack the bowl onto the girl’s shirt. She leaves before she can hear her cry.

* * *

She wishes killers wouldn’t make her come in on a Saturday. She wishes whoever killed this misogynist (namely the infamous Admiral Ackbar) would’ve waited until Monday. She also wishes she wasn’t running late, but it’s less fun to wish for things that are in her control.

Her bubbly work friend, Rose, seems to have no qualms with the untimely work schedule, and hands Rey a croissant on her way into the meeting room. 

Han gives her a mild look when she finds her seat, and a nastier one when she opens her croissant bag. Han is technically her boss, but he’s also her best friend. They've known each other since Rey was in college, and they often joke that he knows more about her than her husband does. He tries to steal the croissant bag when Rey’s not looking, and she slaps his hand. Han’s boss, who Rey only knows as DJ, is talking about the Ackbar kill, how the cut was so tiny he and his girlfriend didn’t notice, how there was no CCTV…

“Twenty quid it was a woman,” she whispers to Han, who chuckles. Someone she barely recognizes, Holdo, gives them a disapproving stare, and Rey sinks back into her chair.

When the meeting concludes, a dull conversation sprinkled with passive aggressive injections, Rey can’t keep in in any longer. “I said it was probably a woman,” she says loudly, and everyone turns various degrees to stare at her.

“Ackbar was a known misogynist and a sex trafficker. A woman wouldn’t have come across as dangerous, even if she was in close proximity,” she explains. “She might’ve been able to get close and…” Without thinking, she moves her finger across her throat. Han rolls his eyes.

Holdo seems to be shielding a smile. “Thank you, Rey. We’ll, er, keep that in mind.”

Soon it’s just Rey and Han. DJ gives her a prolonged look as he exits, and she blinks.

“She said Reyyyy,” she swoons at Han. The photos of the murder are still on the table.

Han is not amused. “Very funny, Miss Dameron,” he grumbles. “Give me that croissant, or I’ll fire you.”

* * *

Snoke doesn’t have a sense of humor, but she likes to joke with him anyways. He’s the longest “manager” she’s had while working in this industry, and she likes to pretend they have a certain fondness for each other. They don’t, of course, but at the moment, he’s one of the only people in her life.

Maybe he’ll laugh this time.

She spills pills over her coffee table, making sure to hide the label – they’re placebos for more intricate missions, but Snoke doesn’t need to know that. Holding a bottle of her finest Russian vodka in her hand, she collapses on her couch, head tilting listlessly to one side. Snoke arrives only a couple minutes later.

He hardly reacts, turning the music down and staring at her abdomen for a couple seconds before declaring, “I can see you breathing.”

Shit. But maybe if Kylo could scare him…

“AAAAAAH!!!” She screams suddenly, making him jump back. His face of shock quickly turns into one of repressed anger. He clutches his chest.

“I got you!” Kylo yells. “A little bit, admit it! I got you!”

Snoke is well over it. He turns around to leave.

“Okay, wait. Do you have another job for me?”

In response, he pulls a postcard out of his oversized pocket. Kylo snatches it before he changes his mind.

“Hey, do you want to watch a movie?” She asks, already knowing the answer. “I just got Netflix, and–”

“I am too busy, Kylo. You know this. But maybe when I get back, eh?” He’s already heading for the door.

“You don’t mean that!” She shouts at his retreating figure. She’s not disappointed – in fact, she’s already looking at her postcard. Tuscany. She’ll have to get some bruschetta before the job.

* * *

She didn’t mean to make herself bleed – that is how Ackbar died, after all. She quickly wipes away the blood, hoping she didn’t fatally stab herself with a tiny cut. She doesn’t know what she’s doing. She hears her name called and slides the knife out of view as her husband fills the doorway.

Poe Dameron is the sweet, gentle husband of Rey’s dreams. He wakes her up on Sundays with crepes and orange juice, he never complains about Rey’s terrible cooking, and he lets her watch her true crime shows deep into the night. Poe is the picture of normality and domesticity… and Rey just cut her leg with a knife.

“Are you okay?” He’s asking, and she snaps back to reality.

“Um, yeah, babe. I’m fine. Can you believe somebody bled that much from a tiny cut in the leg? It’s so…”

“Awful,” Poe says, and Rey nods. She was leaning more towards _interesting,_ but it could be awful too, right?

“How would you kill me?” Rey asks him thoughtfully. She doesn’t expect him to honestly answer, but it’s worth a try.

“Uh, I don’t know. Maybe I’d poison your wine,” he jokes, and she stares down at her glass. “What about you?”

Rey looks up at him.

“I’d paralyze you with saxitoxin and suffocate you in your sleep. I’d cut you up into the smallest bits I could, stick you in a blender, and bring you to work in my hydroflask. Then I’d pour you down our break room drain.” She smiles proudly. Poe pretends to back away from her.

“Damn, you really thought that through, huh?”

“Well, yeah, but it’s smart, isn’t it? I’d never get caught.”

“I’d worry more about why you wanted to kill me than if you’d get caught, hon.” He kisses her on the forehead. “But you do you. If I see saxitoxin in our supply closet, I’m moving to Australia.”

“Mm.” Rey’s already distracted again. She’s just decided – she’s going to interview Ackbar’s girlfriend about the killer, whether Han knows about it or not.

* * *

Tuscany is pretty, but her bruschetta is prettier. Snoke rewarded her for her increased workload by giving her an electric motorbike to ride to the job, and Kylo speeds down the dirt road with her destination in sight: a large Italian-style mansion atop a green hill. For a moment, Kylo wishes she lived here instead of her shabbier-than-chic flat in Paris. 

She parks about half a mile away from the gate, hiding her bike in some bushes and pulling up her hair with a pin. She’s excited about this kill; supposedly there’s a party going on, and Kylo loves watching happy people unaware of future tragedy.

Tragedy she is about to cause.

She loves her job.

The house is largely empty when she arrives, with only a few passing guards pacing the empty halls. These are easily avoidable, and soon she is donning a pale blue dress she’s found in a wardrobe.

The party is an anniversary for the man she’s been told to kill and his wife, who Kylo has yet to see. She mills around the crowd contentedly, spotting her target play with a young boy she can only assume is his grandson. An idea formulates in her head.

* * *

Rose covers for her, as always.

All it takes is a quick walk to the police station and a request for a Polish translator and suddenly she is in front of Mon Mothma, the only witness to Ackbar’s murder.

Mon is absolutely distraught.

Rey looks at the translator in dismay as she slurs sentences together, points aimlessly at Rey’s chair, and sings a drunken version of what appears to be Polish “Happy Birthday”. The translator is speechless. And when Rey finally gets a response for the description of the killer, the translator doesn’t understand.

“It’s mainly cursing, really,” she apologizes, but Rey’s already packing her things.

“So, the mock investigation didn’t go as planned?” Poe asks kindly as she settles down for poker night.

“Hardly. The translator didn’t understand anything, I got a happy birthday song, and that was it. If only I knew Polish.”

The kid they’re playing with, Chewie, looks up. “You said Polish? My family’s from Poland.”

Silently thanking the universe for being on her side, Rey takes out her phone and brings up a recording she’s taken of Mon’s description of the killer. “Would you mind translating this?”

Chewie agrees – Poe’s always said he’s had a certain interest for Rey’s job. He has to listen to it a couple times before he picks anything up. It’s a loud room, he explains, and her witness is virtually incoherent.

He does pick up one phrase.

“She keeps saying _zderzaki_ ,” he notes.

“Is that a descriptor? What does it mean?” Rey leans forward. Chewie looks suddenly uncomfortable.

“Well… I really don’t want to be rude…”

“Oh, please, she’s describing a _killer_. The least you could do is be rude.” Poe looks surprised at Rey’s outburst, but she keeps her eyes on Chewie.

“Oh, God. Fine. It means she has _massive_ tits. Like, absolute _whoppers_.”

“So it’s a woman!” Rey cries. Chewie gives her a look.

“Rey, I wouldn’t trust somebody like that as a witness.”

“I wouldn’t either, but that’s a pretty definite answer for something as simple as gender. I was right,” She triumphs. “Chewie, you’ve got to come with me tomorrow to interview her at the hospital. I want a full description.”

At this, he grumbles. “But I just said-”

“Come on, _please_! I’ll even pay you the twenty quid I’m about to win from Han.”

He caves, and plans are made.

* * *

She’s never sloppy.

Every single thing Kylo does on a kill is decided with precision and foresight. Her every move is calculated and flawless. She’s a machine. And she explains this to Snoke with surprising tranquility, considering that he’s just called her one of the more insulting things one can call a killer-for-hire.

“Then explain to me this, Kylo. If you are so perfect, then why is a key witness still alive and ready to share what happened on the day her boyfriend died?”

“You know what, Snoke? You know what you told me the day I left for Vienna? You said, ‘Kylo, I love you so very much, but please do not kill anyone you do not have to.’ The hell was I supposed to do? Slice _two_ peoples’ thighs open? You wouldn’t have liked that either, would you?”

“Probably not, no.”

“You would have said it was excessive.”

“That is true.”

“So what-”

“I am trying to tell you that you need to take care of the girlfriend, Kylo. That is all. Maybe if you listened-”

“You called me sloppy!”

He hands her a postcard with _London_ scrawled over the front. “Just don’t be sloppy on this one.”

“I won’t,” Kylo promises.

“Make it look like suicide.”

“Easy.”

She doesn’t mention it to Snoke, but she’d rather inject poison into her eye (which looked rather painful, according to the Tuscan man she’d just killed) than go to London. She’s drained. Her undereye circles, which are typically unsightly but manageable, can no longer be covered up by concealer alone. Her right hand is twitching. She has a twelve-hour layover in her Paris apartment, and she spends it asleep.

* * *

The hospital staff are too friendly for her liking, but since Rey lies through her teeth the whole time, she figures she deserves a little annoyance. Chewie looks like he’s about to pass out; _good thing we’re at a hospital,_ Rey thinks stupidly. Glancing at him, she regrets mentioning that what they’re doing isn’t _entirely_ legal, they shouldn’t be pretending to be Mon’s relatives, and she might get in big trouble for this.

“Not you, though, you’re a minor,” She’d explained to Chewie, as if that made it better.

“This is a bad idea,” He’d replied.

They’re almost to the room they were directed towards when Rey realizes she should use the restroom before their potentially lengthy interview. Chewie mutters something about grabbing flowers and then she’s alone in the bathroom, fixing her hair.

Even Poe doesn’t know the full backstory of her infamous three buns. Rey doesn’t fully remember either - just hazy memories of a parent carefully tying up her hair, singing softly. It’s not really a nostalgic habit, either; she’s gotten good at it, and it’s functional, so she does it. Once a day.

Sometimes more than once a day, like tonight, when it’s nearing ten-thirty and her hair is starting to slip out of her bobby pins.

She’s just completed the first bun and is starting on the second when one of the two bathroom stalls opens and a woman steps out. They make eye contact in the mirror.

She’s gorgeous in a graceful, almost masculine way - she has a large nose, a chiseled jaw, and unfairly large lips. Her wavy black hair brushes her shoulders, and Rey has to be jealous, she never knew hair could be that _thick_ , and she won’t even mention her breasts, Jesus _Christ_ -

She looks kind of ill, actually. She’s almost as white as her scrubs. Rey stops.

“Um, are you alright?” She asks, looking over.

The stranger doesn’t respond. Rey half expects her to collapse on the spot.

Instead, she throws her towel away and heads for the door. Rey faces the mirror again, silently sending good fortune her way. Just before she exits, the stranger pauses and looks at her.

“You should wear it down.”

British. Why was Rey expecting something more exotic?

Why did Rey expect to speak to her at _all_?

* * *

She would’ve asked for that woman’s number if this hospital weren’t about to become a crime scene. She doubted Snoke would be very happy with such a direct connection to a kill site. Still, there was a moment when she considered dropping her fake British accent and asking her for a drink. She was _that_ pretty.

And her hair…

She stops. She’s arrived at her target’s room. Now is the time for total focus.

Kylo hopes the woman in the bathroom will take her time. It would be such a shame to kill such a pretty face.

She draws the knife hidden in her scrubs.

* * *

Han is clutching her hand too tightly, and she’s grateful. The pressure is grounding her. It makes her remember to breathe.

They’re seated before DJ and Holdo. Neither are speaking. Rey still has blood on her hands. She shudders involuntarily and Han glances at her, concerned. Rey shakes her head. _It’s nothing._

“Let me get this straight, Miss Dameron. You were at the hospital because… you wanted to interview the witness?” DJ asks.

“Yes. I had this theory-”

“And you brought a minor into danger as your… translator?” Holdo scowls.

“How is a hospital _danger_?” Rey snaps.

“You’re lucky he’s alive. You’re lucky _you’re_ alive, actually.” Holdo is standing up. Is it over already?

“You don’t need to tell her that, Amilyn. She was there.” Han jumps in. “Why don’t we take five? Please?”

DJ and Holdo look at each other, shrug, and exit. Rey slumps back in her chair.

“Jesus, I am _so_ fired.”

“Don’t talk like that, Rey. It wasn’t your fault. They just… you’re overqualified for your job. You should be in Amilyn’s position. Higher, even.”

Rey snorts. “Fat lot of good that does me now, Solo.”

“Who knows? You might be getting promoted.”

At this, they both laugh. Rey feels tears building in her eyes.

“And anyway, if you’re fired,” Han says, “I hope you know that I’d quit, too.”

“Han, _no._ You’ve got a baby.”

“Don’t bring my baby into this!” Han smiles. “I’m just saying I got your back, darling. Don’t worry about a thing.”

DJ and Amilyn come back. Rey is fired. Han promptly calls DJ a scruffy-looking nerfherder. After a bemused pause, Han is also fired. They leave the office still holding hands.

* * *

Snoke won’t be happy, she knows. The directive was to make the kill look like a suicide. Based on the local news playing in her hotel room, she hasn’t exactly met that criteria. In her defense, there were far too many people in the vicinity to get away with only one death; according to the nurses, she was at “high risk”. Whether that was for suicide or a critical health condition, Kylo doesn’t know.

She didn’t have to kill the woman in the bathroom.

A part of her is almost disappointed; there’s something in killing that gives her possession over her victims. She’s the last face they see. She’s their liberator from a harsh, cruel world.

Kylo imagines the woman going home to a husband. She can’t forget the sleek wedding band on her finger. She imagines them turning on the news, seated together, her head on his shoulder.

She imagines them finding out what she’s done.

Smiling emotionlessly, Kylo runs her next mission postcard through her fingers. Bulgaria. She wonders how long it will take the woman to recover from being so close to so much death.

* * *

She and Poe sit in silence, his arms wrapped around her shaking torso. She’s unaware of how much time has passed. It feels like seconds. It’s probably been upwards of forty-five minutes. Rey’s so lucky to have such a supportive husband. As if he knows she’s thinking about him, he strokes her hair gently. She tries for a smile.

There’s a knock at the door.

When Rey unlocks it, she has to blink. Amilyn Holdo is standing idly on her front stoop, looking like a friend who’s come over for dinner.

“Hello?”

Holdo turns her gaze from Rey’s overgrown garden and meets her eyes. “Yes. Hello, Rey.”

“Is there something I can… help you with, or-”

Amilyn interrupts. “I was just wondering if you were running low on milk.”

Their milk had spoiled yesterday. Rey had only noticed after her cereal turned green. “Yes, actually,” she says, a little late.

They walk down the darkened street in silence. Rey thinks about making conversation, but she’s so drained she’d rather hear the sound of their footsteps on the wet sidewalk.

After a few blocks, they arrive at a convenience store. It’s not the one she and Poe use; Poe got on an organic kick a couple years ago, and they’ve never gone back. She imagines his reaction when she brings back gas station milk at eleven at night.

At the cooler, they stop. Amilyn faces her with such startling eye contact Rey finds herself wanting to shrink back into the snack display.

“Have you done research on female assassins before, Rey?”

Funny she should ask. It’s pretty much all she does when she’s alone in her office with a computer.

“Um, a couple of times. Yeah.”

“Excellent. I’ve been tracking her for several months now, she-”

“I’m so sorry,” Rey injects. “Who are we talking about?”

Amilyn looks surprised. “Why, the assassin who murdered Ackbar and Mothma, of course.”

A burning sensation is building in her abdomen. “Wait, so I was _right_?”

“That is correct.”

“But-”

She interrupts. “Rey, I really don’t have the time to discuss the full details with you at the moment, but I’m free for breakfast at nine on Thursday. Have you ever heard of Denny’s?”

Rey’s brow furrows. “Er, yes, I’ve heard of Denny’s.”

“Good. Be there at nine. I’ll wait five minutes.”

“Okay,” Rey says, without thinking.

“Do you need milk?”

“Oh! Yes.”

She grabs the 2% ashamedly, still under Amilyn’s scrutinizing gaze. “Do you need anything?” She asks timidly.

“No.”


	2. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As soon as he’s gone, Rey shuts the door and exhales slowly. She’d known her first day of work would be difficult, but who’d have thought it would be Han who gave her all the trouble? Almost as a subconscious way to relieve stress, she starts undoing her buns.  
> And stops.  
> “Oh my God.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and we're back! thank you to everyone who read the first chapter this week!! this next chapter is a bit longer than the last one, but i hope you enjoy regardless :) please leave feedback and let me know if you liked it!!

She arrives at the Denny’s at 9:03, completely out of breath. Amilyn is sitting in the very center of the restaurant. She has already been served.

“Hello,” Rey gasps. “Sorry I’m late.”

“That’s fine, dear,” Amilyn replies easily. “I didn’t really expect you to even show up at all.”

“Seriously?”

“Do you know why I picked this place?” Amilyn asks, ignoring her.

Rey scowls. “Is it because I’m American?”

“Precisely. And what better American breakfast place than Denny’s?”

“I can think of a couple. Besides, I came to the UK when I was a year and a half old. This isn’t exactly making me nostalgic, Amilyn.”

“Okay, I get it. I was attempting to capitalize on the information I knew about you, because to be honest, Rey, I really don’t know anything about you.”

A waitress brings Rey a glass of water with a ludicrously-thin slice of lemon on the rim. She orders pancakes. When the waitress leaves, the tension resumes. “Where do you want me to start?”

“Let’s begin with why you’re so interested in female assassins, shall we? Is there a history there?”

“Christ, we’re not even going to _try_ for small talk?”

“Rey, I don’t know how busy you are, but I keep a rather tight schedule. Would you like to make small talk, or would you like a job?”

“A _job_?” Rey repeats.

“Yes. Now, how long have you been interested in female assassins?”

“Oh. Well, I watched a _lot_ of _America’s Most Wanted_ as a kid, so that might have been the beginning, I guess. Ever since, I’ve done research, written theses, scoured archives… you name it.”

“Why?” Amilyn asks. She’s twirling her straw.

“Well, I- I guess it’s just-” Rey stammers.

“Go on.”

“I’m just a… stan.”

“You’re a female assassin _stan_.”

Rey’s blushing. “I mean, I guess so.”

Amilyn frowns. “Rey, I’d like to show you something. Please, come with me.”

“But I just ordered-” Rey protests. “Never mind.”

* * *

Kylo has a bruise on her forehead from the last kill. Walking through Paris, she feels mildly self-conscious for the first time in years. The looks she is given on the way back to her apartment reminded her of why she took up this profession in the first place - the thinly veiled judgement, the stares, the parts of humanity that make her want to kill _everyone_.

She’s interrupted from her thoughts by the sight of a man struggling to put his garbage bag into the dumpster. He’s a fellow tenant, presumably; he’s ugly, too. His red hair is sticking up like a warning sign. He looks up when she passes, seemingly infatuated with the sight of her fucked-up face.

“Are you… alright?” he asks, reminding her hauntingly of the pretty woman in the bathroom. She tries to smile at him.

“Yes.”

Kylo’s climbing up the stairs. She has to get away from his criminally thin lips.

“My name is Armitage!” He calls after her. She doesn’t respond.

* * *

They take the bus. Amilyn sits on the opposite side of the aisle. Rey’s relieved.

When they arrive at their destination, a run-down looking building in a shitty part of town, Amilyn stares, deep in thought, at the sewer.

“I once saw a horribly mutated bird right there. Massive eyes. No beak. And when it chirped…” She shudders. “Anyway, come on in.”

They pass a couple of people on their way up the narrow stairs; one is holding a massive stack of papers, another clutches a duffel bag like it contains something highly illegal. (Considering the circumstances, Rey later reflects, it probably did.)

They reach the top of the stairs without speaking. Amilyn swipes a key card and the metal door buzzes open jarringly. She holds it open for Rey, and she slips through.

She finds herself in a slightly musty office lined with dusty windows and a bulletin board with pictures of bodies connected together with the stereotypical red yarn Rey’s used to seeing from true crime shows. To her surprise, they’re mostly pictures she recognizes - photos she’s taken from news articles and federal websites to try and piece together her own puzzle.

Now she doesn’t have to; the pieces are already there.

Amilyn is watching her when she turns back around.

“Well?” She asks.

“Um… what exactly would I be doing here?” Rey can’t see anything else in the office besides a cluster of desks pushed against the window.

“To start, you’d-”

Amilyn is interrupted by the harsh buzzing sound, indicating someone’s entrance. A tall young man forces the door open, then stops upon seeing Rey. He obviously wasn’t informed of any visitors.

“Sorry,” he says. “I…”

“Rey, this is Finn. He’s the, for lack of a better word, ‘hacker’ of the team. He can retrieve anything and everything. He just… doesn’t know what to retrieve. And that’s where you come in.”

Rey smiles at Finn, who nods back. He seems like a nice dude, but he would do good replacing those shorts.

“Finn, this is Rey. She’ll be the newest member of our team.”

The word _team_ suddenly registers. “Who else works here?”

“Two more people,” Amilyn replies. “Your choice. Do you… have anyone in mind?”

She does.

* * *

It is of Snoke’s opinion that Kylo is not of sound mind. He’s wrong, of course, but since Snoke is also technically in charge of her, she goes to his physiological evaluation anyway.

A man whom she is only introduced to as “General” is seated before her, holding a clipboard and a thick stack of paper. He looks her up and down.

“Well, er… I suppose I should thank you for dressing for the occasion.”

She smiles and smoothes out her puffy red dress. Normally, Kylo’s known to favor blacks and grays over brighter colors, but she figures it’ll detract from the nasty bruise forming on her forehead. Apparently, it’s worked.

“Thank you,” she replies, her voice bouncy.

“I think you are smart enough to know why Snoke brought you in for this evaluation. Am I correct in assuming this, Miss Ren?”

“It’s just Kylo, thank you,” she says easily. “And yes, I’m perfectly aware that my recent actions might cause alarm to the untrained eye.”

Snoke makes an odd growling noise from the back of his throat. Kylo smiles sweetly at him.

“Let’s begin, then. How have you been lately?”

“Some arsehole smacked me with a telephone,” Kylo admits, “but other than that I think I’m okay.”

“When was your last kill?”

“Yesterday,” she groans. “It took _forever_. Did you know Bulgarians can run? Fast?”

He ignores her. “How did it go?”

“I just told you.”

“ _Kylo_ ,” Snoke warns.

“ _Fine_. It was successful. I’ve been a little tired lately, is that-”

Once again, she is ignored, and the General continues on. “How does this make you feel?”

He thrusts a picture of a hanged man in her face. She examines it.

“Impatient.” She’s hanged a lot of people, but it’s not her preferred method by a long shot.

The next picture is one of a hanged dog. “And this?”

 _This is too easy_ , Kylo thinks. She lets her eyes build with tears, and watches the faces of her superiors tighten.

She starts chuckling after they’re sufficiently convinced. “Oh, God, let’s _please_ do this more often.”

The examiner shrugs. “She’s fine.”

Kylo smirks at Snoke, but he’s not done. He whispers something into the examiner’s ear, and he turns back to her.

The next picture is a sketch - one that Kylo drew. She’s unsurprised Snoke got his hands on it; it’s one of hundreds of a similar premise scattered around her apartment.

It’s a faceless head of hair.

Short, thin hair.

Kylo frowns.

“Вы все еще думаете о Фазме?” The examiner asks her.

“She doesn’t speak Russian anymore,” Snoke informs him, and Kylo tries to nod.

“Sorry, Miss Ren.”

“It’s _Kylo_. Jesus,” she mutters.

“ _Do_ you still think of Phasma?” He repeats.

“Of course not,” she lies. Then, in case her answer wasn’t convincing enough, she adds: “Her name sounds very stupid in English, so I’d prefer not to think about her.”

She knows it’s not good enough.

“I would keep her home for a week, Snoke, if I were you,” the General is saying.

“That is what I thought. Thank you.” Snoke sounds _relieved_. How dare he?

After they’ve left the office, Snoke tries to put a hand on her shoulder. She brushes him off without thinking.

“Hey. I am trying to do what is right for you. You know this, Kylo.”

“You know my new name is only supposed to be one word, right? I just put “Ren” to get my visa into this stupid country.”

“I know that, Kylo. The whole world knows that.”

“Then why the hell do all your contacts keep calling me that? That’s bullshit!”

Kylo’s about to cry now. She and Snoke both know she’s throwing a fit about nothing; they’ve been through this a million times. So why does she feel so _fragile_?

“I’m sorry,” Snoke says, as if he can read her thoughts.

She doesn’t answer, and instead wraps her arms around him. He’s a scrawny man, and her dress nearly swallows him whole.

So, naturally, he can’t possibly see her sneak the postcard containing her next mission from his coat pocket.

When they break apart, he tries for a smile. “You see why I am worried about you! Why don’t you enjoy yourself for a couple of days? Try doing something _normal_.”

Kylo nods, but she can’t picture herself doing anything but preparing for her self-assigned mission. Perhaps that is _her_ normal.

* * *

Rey and Han are waiting at the entrance of their new office, Han chatting relentlessly about the opportunities of an MI6 job, Rey shivering from the cold. She stops, though, when she hears a squeal from behind her.

“Oh my _God_!” Rose cries, smothering her in a hug. Through Rose’s hair, Rey can barely make out Han’s expression.

“You called her _first_?” He scowls.

“Of course. Feminism,” Rose says. Then, to Rey, she gushes, “Quitting is quite literally everything I’ve ever wanted. Except for, like, a sustainable income. But that’s solved, too! Isn’t this great, Han?”

“Sure,” he grumbles.

Rose looks like she’s about to elaborate, but then the door opens and Amilyn lets them in.

Quick introductions are made between Han, Rose, and Finn, and then they’re settling down for their first brief.

To Rey’s surprise, giving briefs is a part of her job.

“Um, hello, everybody,” she begins. “Thank you for making the time to be employed here, it means a lot. This team was assembled in order to catch an internationally-operating female assassin, who-”

“Wait, why?” Han asks, leaning back in his chair. “Why her?”

“Because she’s highly dangerous and very good at her job. This assassin might be working-”

“Sorry,” Han interrupts, not sounding very sorry at all. “How are you sure all of those kills on your fancy little chalkboard were done by the same person?”

“It’s a _bulletin board_ ,” Finn mutters under his breath. Rey decides she likes him.

“Is there something you’d like to get off your chest?” She glares at Han. 

“No,” he responds smoothly. “I was just wondering how you’re sure.”

Rey feels her face heat up, and she glances at Finn. “Sorry, could you show me to the bathroom?”

She doesn’t leave quickly enough to miss Han’s eye roll.

* * *

Listening to talk radio is one of Kylo’s favorite pastimes. Imitating laughs and other wordless expressions helps her more easily assimilate to the non-assassin world.

She practices this now, repeating the shrill laugh of one of the guests as she cranks up her treadmill. She’s so focused that she barely hears the knock at the door.

Kylo isn’t expecting visitors.

On her way to answer, she stealthily hides a knife in her sports bra. For all she knows, it could be a fucking kill squad at her door.

But it’s not. It’s Armitage. And he’s bearing gifts.

“Lemons help with bruises,” he says, handing her several (she knows for a fact that they don’t). After that there’s an awkward pause - Kylo’s got her hands full of lemons, and Armitage seems to be expecting her to say something.

“Oh. Thank you,” she finally remembers.

“You are welcome!”

Another pause. Kylo studies Armitage; in this light, he doesn’t actually look that bad. Almost average, actually. Almost _normal_. A lightbulb goes off in her head.

“What are you doing now?” she asks him.

“Right… right now?”

“Yes.”

“Cancelling all the other plans I had!” He laughs, and she laughs along with him. Snoke will be proud.

* * *

She didn’t expect much for a bathroom, but the one she’s shown has fallen below her expectations. It’s barely big enough to turn around in to access the toilet. She wonders how Finn, who has a sturdier frame, manages to comfortably use it.

Finn’s holding a half-used roll of toilet paper, and for the first time, Rey realizes there’s none in the bathroom.

“It gets moldy when you leave it in here,” he explains, and Rey shudders.

He holds it out. “How many sheets do you need?”

“Oh, um… I’m just going to take the roll. And bring it back. If that’s cool with you.”

“Oh! Sure!” He looks surprised someone would even make that request.

As soon as he’s gone, Rey shuts the door and exhales slowly. She’d known her first day of work would be difficult, but who’d have thought it would be _Han_ who gave her all the trouble? Almost as a subconscious way to relieve stress, she starts undoing her buns.

And stops.

_Oh my God._

* * *

They’re walking down a tree-lined street, with a band playing ahead. Armitage bought them both ice cream, and Kylo licks it listlessly.

“So, what’s with the bruise?” He asks. He’d made her apply lemon juice in his presence, just so he could be sure it would heal. Kylo hated him for caring.

“The man I was hired to kill threw a telephone at my head,” she answers seriously, but Armitage throws back his head and _laughs_. She’s confused, but she laughs along.

“You are so funny!” He’s grinning. 

“Yes,” she decides. “I am.”

They pass by the band. It’s playing some orchestral melody she doesn’t recognize.

“Do you listen to music?” Armitage asks her. Kylo admires the amount of effort he’s putting into trying to get to know her.

“I like elevator music.”

“Elevator music?”

“Yes, you know… the songs you hear in an elevator.”

“Oh,” he says. “You are so interesting, Keelo.”

She likes how he pronounces her name. They finish their ice creams in silence.

They near the end of the street. Kylo faces him. “Why don’t you show me your apartment?”

* * *

It’s not the time for dramatics, but Rey still takes full advantage of her revelation by bursting through the office door at full speed, making everyone (including Amilyn) look up.

“Finn, would it be possible to identify every female hospital employee working the night Mon died?”

“Sure thing. Gimme, like, four hours.”

Rey exhales. “Great, thanks.”

“Pardon me, Rey, but what exactly is your strategy here?” Amilyn asks.

“Oh, right.” She should’ve explained herself at the beginning. “See, right before the shit hit the fan, I saw a nurse in the bathroom. She couldn’t have been one of the victims - I would’ve recognized her - but she had to have been bloody close to the murder as it was happening. Maybe she saw something.”

“Excellent work, Rey.” Amilyn sounds genuinely proud of her, and Rey tries not to fully grin. 

“Thank you!”

Rose slides her a small smile from her desk, and Finn gives her a thumbs-up. She understands their excitement; they might have a lead.

Then, for the first time since she reentered the office, Rey takes the time to scan the office. Her brow furrows. “Wait a minute. Where’s Han?”

* * *

It’s one of the few times Kylo’s had sex with a man, and it’s not pleasurable in the slightest. Armitage, on the other hand, seems to be having an excellent time under her.

She decides to get it over with, and increases their speed.

After they’re done, she rolls off of his gross, sweaty abdomen and onto his equally nasty mattress. He turns over to look at her.

“Did you?”

She resists the urge to wrinkle her nose in disgust.

“Yes,” Kylo lies.

She leaves his apartment shortly after, not even bothering to put on anything other than her lingerie. Her landlady, whose name she has not bothered to learn, is watching as she climbs the stairs to her apartment.

“Nice work!” She congratulates Kylo in French. Kylo only smirks.

Half an hour later, she’s wearing a gas mask and mixing toxic chemicals into a deadly cocktail.

* * *

Rey barely catches up with Han before he crosses a busy street. “Are you fucking serious?” She barks, out of breath.

Han frowns at her. “Pardon?”

“One disagreement, and you’re jumping ship? Just like that? That’s so immature, Han, I thought you were-”

“Jesus, calm down. I’m getting a muffin.”

“What?” Rey thinks she’s misheard him.

“I’m getting a muffin,” Han repeats slowly.

There’s a pause as Rey figures it out. “Shit. Your blood sugar’s low?”

“Very.”

Han has a history of cursing coworkers out when he’s forgotten to eat breakfast.

“Sorry for assuming you quit,” she mutters.

“That’s quite alright,” Han sniffs. “But, Rey, you have to understand my concern about the credibility of this team.”

“You’re right. That’s valid. But it’s also the first fucking day. Give us _time_ to be credible.” Rey exhales.

“Just explain one thing, okay?”

“Shoot.”

“Why are we focusing on this one girl? If there is some ulterior motive, which you seem to think there is, shouldn’t we be concentrated on _them_?”

“Christ, Han, you’re totally right. Do you have any connections or leads on anyone above the assassins? Someone ordering the kills?”

“What’re you trying to say?”

“I’m saying that our only lead _is_ her. Of course she’s not the most important person with whoever she’s working for, but we’ve got to focus on her because she’s all we’ve got.”

“And what about her do we know, exactly?” Han presses.

“I’d say she has multiple passports and can speak multiple languages. She’s excellent and versatile at killing, and she tends to add a certain flair to her kills.” Rey pauses, thinking. “She probably scores high on the psychopathy scale, she probably started training at a young age, and she might not have any idea why she’s killing so many people.”

“Good God.” They’ve both stopped walking.

“Look, I’d better get back to the office… can you pick me up a-”

“Lemon poppyseed muffin. Of course, Your Highness.” Han laughs. “See you in fifteen.”

She’s so distracted by the prospects of her new job, she almost gets hit by a car on her way back.

* * *

When Kylo arrives, she realizes her mistake almost immediately. The time of the event on her mission postcard clearly read 12:00 - she’s just arrived at half past noon. She readily receives some harsh language from the head of catering (she quickly figures out that she’s supposed to be a waitress), and then she’s off to serve champagne to rich perfumers.

While she’s topping off a bald man’s glass, her subject is called for a speech. The woman blushes, clearly taken off-guard. _Aw, she’s pretty_.

Kylo still hasn’t come up with a plan to get the woman alone. She’s decided that solitude is the only feasible way to make this work - spraying perfume in someone’s face in front of dozens isn’t exactly a recipe for a clean kill.

After what seems like hours of pleasantries and talking, her target rises from her chair and excuses herself to the bathroom. Kylo smiles to herself. It’s perfect.

* * *

Poe has a bad habit of eating dinner on their couch, but Rey lets it slide this time. She’s in an excellent mood. Day one of her new job, and they’ve already got leads underway! Thoughtfully, she sips her wine.

Poe looks at her strangely. “What?” Rey asks, suddenly self-conscious.

“It’s just… you’re glowing.” Poe’s eyes crinkle as he smiles.

“Oh my God, shut _up_.” Rey grins. “Must be the yoga,” she adds.

“Mm. Must be.”

There’s a pause as Poe takes a bite and Rey looks into her glass. Finally she breaks.

“I got a job.”

He nearly chokes. “So no yoga?”

“No, no yoga. _MI6_.” She winks.

“You’re kidding! _Rey_!”

“I know! Amilyn - she’s my boss - wants me to find this female assassin, it’s-what?”

Poe’s expression has changed suddenly, making Rey pause.

“God, honey. Please tell me this is a safe job.”

She balks. “What do you _mean_ , safe? Of course it’s safe!”

“Really? You’d consider hunting down an assassin _safe_?”

“Bloody hell, Poe. You know this is my dream job, right? I’m being _paid_ to do something I already do in my free time? Of course it’s fucking _safe_. Is being a teacher safe? How often do I ask you that?”

Before she knows what’s happening, she’s grabbing her coat.

“Where are you going?” Poe yells after her.

“Work,” she replies coldly.

He doesn’t try to stop her.

* * *

As soon as Kylo lets Snoke in, she’s slammed against the wall in a well-practiced chokehold.

“This is hot,” she musters, and his grip tightens.

“I specifically told you to _relax_. You dare disobey me?” He growls.

“Neither of us are particularly relaxed right now,” Kylo replies reasonably.

“I’m halving your allowance.” He finally lets her go, and she slumps against the plaster.

“Fuck you,” she spits.

“It is done. You need to-”

He’s interrupted by a knock on the door. Kylo and Snoke frown at each other, equally confused.

She cracks the door. _Oh, God_. It’s Armitage.

“Hi!” He’s carrying a takeout box. Why does he have to be so fucking _nice_?

“Um, hi! Come in!” She opens the door, subsequently revealing Snoke standing closely behind her.

“This is… my brother,” she smiles.

Snoke shrugs. “Sure. Why not?”

But Armitage eats it up. “It is very nice to meet you!” He gushes. “I am Kylo’s friend!”

“Hello,” Snoke replies coldly. “She and I were in the middle of something. Actually.”

“I am sorry!” Armitage gasps, but then he gives Kylo a knowing smile. “Planning your next kill, eh?”

She lets out a sharp laugh, trying to poke Snoke in the ribs so he plays along. A little late, Snoke starts chuckling along with them.

“I don’t know if she told you, but Miss Kylo here is a perfume saleswoman,” Snoke explains, “and I am her business partner. We were talking about her next perfume.”

“Oh, lovely!” Armitage beams.

Kylo feels the need to interject. “Yes, it is.”

“May I smell some?”

She flashes Snoke a concealed eye roll, because of _course_ Armitage was going to ask to smell the perfume. He’s a polite guy, and that’s what polite guys _do_.

“No, sorry, it’s all in the warehouse.” She says apologetically. “What a shame.”

“Ah, well. Next time!” Snoke quips, trying to match the overly cheerful energy of the conversation.

This is clearly intended as a cue for Armitage to leave, and thankfully, he takes the hint.

But not before wrapping Kylo in an unnecessarily affectionate hug and promising to return in an hour.

Neither Snoke nor Kylo see him pocket the small bottle of perfume sticking out of her purse.

* * *

On her way to the office, Rey receives good news from Finn over text. 

_hi rey! just got the photo ids. emailing now xx_

She can’t help but smile at the startling familiarity of his message - although this is their first correspondence, Rey feels like she’s known him for several months, not hours. She starts walking faster. By tomorrow, she’ll have reached out to the nurse she saw in the bathroom, and within the week, she’ll have interviewed a potential eyewitness.

Unless…

Her gut clenches at the possibility. What if the nurse wasn’t a nurse at all?

* * *

After they have successfully kicked out Kylo’s unwanted guest, Snoke insists on opening a bottle of champagne from her minifridge. She doesn’t bother asking the occasion; based on previous experience, this could either mean very good or very bad news. After he hands her her glass, she’s also given an envelope containing an insultingly small sum of cash.

“This is bullshit,” she says halfheartedly. She knows it’s a lost cause.

“Mm.” Snoke agrees.

There’s a comfortable pause.

“By the way. There is a woman in London leading a department to find you.”

Her heart skips a beat. “Really?”

“This is not flattering. You are not flattered.”

Kylo’s _so_ flattered. “What is her name?”

“Rey Dameron,” Snoke says carefully.

Kylo pops the champagne. “Rey Dameron.”

_CRASH._

* * *

Rey doesn’t bother turning the office lights on, and instead focuses on scanning through the photos of every female hospital nurse working the night of the kills. She’s gone through them once and is about to double-check when the sound of the door opening almost sends her off her chair.

“Jesus, Han. What’re you doing here so late?” She yelps, clutching her chest.

“Same as you. Can’t sleep.” He rolls his chair over to her desk and takes a seat beside her. “Anything interesting?”

“Maybe,” Rey muses. “It’s just…”

“What?”

“You know the assassin?”

“Yeah?”

“I…” Rey swallows. “I think I’ve met her.”

* * *

Honestly, the untimely demise of Armitage would faze her more if they hadn’t had sex. The lack of remorse she feels seems to stem from her sudden need for intimacy.

Or maybe she’s just a psychopath.

Her laptop is precariously balanced on top of her knees, and she steadies it as she opens the Google search bar and carefully types a name: _Rey Dameron_. Her wifi takes its time to load. Elevator music blares from her radio.

She starts looking through the pages, only to find that Miss Dameron has little to no social media presence - something that is probably for the better, considering her job, but is slightly infuriating for Kylo.

She comes across a picture of about twenty people on someone named Poe Dameron’s Facebook page. Her eyes scan quickly across the picture - Rey Dameron could be literally any of these people.

And then she stops.

Beaming up at her is the face of the woman in the bathroom, the _pretty_ woman Kylo almost asked out, proudly resting her head on Poe Dameron’s shoulder.

_Um, are you alright?_

They’ve met.

_You should wear it down._

Kylo picks up her laptop and tosses it away from her. Her face is hot. There’s no way.

Rey Dameron’s picture mocks her triumphantly through the computer screen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks again for reading!! i update on chapter progress at @ZUK0ED on twitter, so feel free to follow me there! next chapter will be posted asap :)

**Author's Note:**

> thank you so much for reading!! i'll post chapter two as soon as possible, but i want to get feedback on this one first :) let me know what you thought!  
> also, my twitter is @ZUK0ED, so if you want updates on chapter progress, i'd suggest following there!!  
> thank you to @perperuna93 on twitter for helping me with the polish translation!


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